They have stricken me, you shall say, and I was not sick; they have beaten me, and I felt it not: when shall I awake? I will seek it yet again.

When your terror comes as desolation, and your destruction comes as a whirlwind; when distress and anguish comes upon you.

My son, if you become surety for your friend, if you have struck your hand with a stranger,

Till an arrow strikes through his liver; as a bird hastens to the snare, and knows not that it is for his life.